Chapter 4

Mingyue woke with a jolt, not from fear, but from the unfamiliar luxury of a real bed. Sunlight, filtered through the inn’s paper screens, painted the room in soft gold. A deep, revitalizing breath filled her lungs, and she stretched, feeling a subtle hum of energy, almost like a faint electrical current, tingling in her meridians. The knowledge from the jade slip, even when not actively studied, seemed to be gently working its magic. She touched the egg, still tucked against her, feeling its comforting warmth. It was a strange, silent promise for the future.

Her first thought, after the pleasant surprise of being warm and well-rested, was of Jiang Feng. And then, the looming presence of the sect exam.

She pushed open the connecting door. Jiang Feng was awake, propped against the pillows, looking significantly better than the ravaged deity she’d found in the ruins. His eyes, a sharp midnight blue, almost obsidian with gold flecks, swept over her, taking in her newly cleaned appearance and moonlight white robes. A flicker of something unreadable, perhaps approval, crossed his features before settling back into his usual stoicism.

Mingyue approached with a steaming bowl of broth. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” she chirped, then gestured to the bowl. “Breakfast is served. Straight from the finest inn kitchen this side of… well, this inn.”

He took a sniff. His noble nose wrinkled ever so slightly. He took a tiny, reluctant sip. A faint shudder passed through him, almost imperceptible.

“What, no spirit-infused dragon marrow soup for His Highness?” Mingyue deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Beggars can’t be choosers, especially when they’re attracting void monsters and relying on the kindness of strangers and a 15-year-old doctor. Come on, it’s good for you. Protein, hydration, probably some essential micronutrients, even if it tastes like… well, broth.”

Jiang Feng pondered her strange string of words, but eventually let out a faint sigh. He continued to drink, albeit slowly. He didn’t comment on the flavor, but the subtle tightening around his eyes was eloquent enough. He was clearly accustomed to a more refined palate.

Mingyue sat on the edge of the bed and checked his chest wound. The medgel was doing an incredible job. The flesh beneath was pink and healthy, almost fully closed. “Your recovery rate is insane, even for someone who just survived a void rift,” she mused, professional curiosity warring with awe. “Medgel is good, but this is… supernatural. Your immune system must be something else.”

“True qi,” Jiang Feng murmured, his voice still a low rasp, but stronger than yesterday. He met her gaze.

He then reached into his robes, producing another spirit stone. This one was a deeper, richer purple, radiating an almost palpable energy. He placed it in her palm. “For emergencies. And should you require… persuasion,” he murmured, his gaze direct. “Sect politics are far more treacherous than beast hordes, Shen Mingyue. Cultivation talent is a beacon, but also a target. Be… discreet.”

Mingyue nodded, pocketing the stone and the token. “Got it. Blend in, but also stand out, but discreetly. Sounds like my average day in the ER, honestly.” Jiang Feng looked at her again as if she were a puzzle.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. “Young Miss Shen! The Elder requires your presence for the trials!”

Mingyue cast a final glance at Jiang Feng. “Wish me luck. And try not to cause any more interdimensional incidents while I’m gone.”

He closed his eyes, a flicker of something that might have been amusement on his lips.

The disciples, looking more respectful today, escorted Mingyue through the bustling town. As they neared the Mist Valley Plaza, Mingyue’s breath hitched. It was a colossal expanse, designed for thousands, already teeming with a sea of hopeful applicants. Banners emblazoned with the Mist Valley Sect’s cloud-and-mist emblem fluttered in the morning breeze, and the distant sound of gongs reverberated through the air, sending shivers down her spine. The sheer scale was overwhelming.

Dressed in the flowing moonlight robes Jiang Feng had provided, her hair neatly brushed, and her skin glowing with renewed health, Mingyue’s true features were apparent. Her amethyst eyes, usually sharp with intellect, now held a hint of quiet grace. She drew glances, some curious, some envious, some admiring as she navigated the throngs. It was a strange sensation, but she held her head high, the newfound confidence a subtle armor.

A stern-faced Elder, not Ling, stood on a raised platform, his voice amplified by spiritual energy to reach every corner of the plaza. “Thousands gather today, aspiring to walk the Dao!” he boomed. “Only a fraction, perhaps a hundred of the most promising, shall be chosen as outer disciples!”

Mingyue inwardly sighed. “Great. Another exam,” she muttered under her breath. “I thought I was done with these for life.” She was a master of standardized tests, a veteran of countless high-stakes exams. But looking around, she quickly realized most of her knowledge was utterly useless here. Advanced calculus? Useless. Organic chemistry? Probably only useful if she wanted to invent a new poison. Modern medical theory? Only if applied to ancient meridians, which was surprisingly intuitive, thanks to the jade slip. “What use is advanced calculus,” she mused, “I should have stuck with my martial arts.”

The Elder continued, outlining the first trial: the Spiritual Root Test. Thousands of applicants queued before rows of glowing crystal orbs.

When it was her turn, Mingyue approached a pristine orb. She placed her hand on it, concentrating, trying to channel whatever subtle energy the jade slip had introduced her to. The orb glowed.

First, it pulsed with a vibrant, pure flame-red, indicating a strong affinity for fire. Flame root? Good for alchemy, she recalled from the jade slip’s rudimentary notes. And exploding things. Also potentially useful.

But then, a second, softer light emanated – a shimmering, translucent blue-white, almost like frozen mist. It swirled around the red, a delicate, unusual counterpoint. The Elder monitoring her orb, a wizened man with thick brows, raised an eyebrow, murmuring, “A dual root… and an ice-variant one, at that. Intriguing.” He made a note on his scroll.

Mingyue blinked. Well, that wasn’t on the flashcards. At least I’m not a no-root loser. I already defeated that cultivation story trope. Yay me. And fire is good for… cooking? Or blowing things up. And ice for… chilling drinks? Maybe I can make spirit ice cream flambe. Her thoughts remained irreverent, even as she was passed to the next stage. The sheer number of participants meant efficiency was paramount; there was no time for individual contemplation. She moved forward, the hum of the crowd and the thrill of the unknown spurring her on.